After 'Happily Ever After'
by T. K. Holmes
Summary: You know the story, and the role she played. But, what if there was method to her seemingly cruel madness? If only you knew what she knew...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Now THIS is a genuine Holmes Original, something that could only have come from the mind of someone who watched documentaries for half of his life. Hopefully this is decent, 'cause I only know a few Disney Princesses (what do you expect? I'm a dude) Reviews will be turned into gold and sent back to the reviewer, flames will be redirected to flamers hard drives. I do not plan to make a sequel to this. Ever.**

Radiation is a strange magic. Unstable, unpredictable, and largely unknown to the inhabitants of our land. _Was _largely unknown of, until 3 days ago, when my old step daughter, or as she is now called, the Füher of the Cindrellan Republic of Europe, detonated a tactical nuclear warhead in her palace. Yes, that's right: the good, kind, gentile Cinderella nuked her own capitol city. And you called me the evil one. Yes, it's me, the evil, brazen and abusive Stepmother. I'd be dying of irony if I was not already dying of radiation poisoning. That is why I am writing this: As I said before, radiation is unpredictable. I could die in 20 years, I could die writing this. But, no matter when I die, I _HAVE_ to get my side of the story in.

This whole fiasco started several years ago, when a foreign royal family visited our humble city. The Princess, Belle, now Chancellor of Nationalist France, had the generosity to provide all of our fair city's residents with a book. Cinderella was no exception, even though I protested that she had more than enough to do around our manor. She insisted, and soon after, Cinderella gained a large tome detailing world history. Whatever free time she had, she spent it with her nose in that book. This continued for some time, and, periodically the books would change- god knows how she got them- I only remember a few of the titles and fewer authors: "Mein Kampf" by a Hitler fellow, a "Little Red Book" by Mao something-or-other, and some sort of manifesto by a Karl Marx fellow. I though nothing of it, at first, all women have their quirks, you know. But one day, when I had Cinderella running some errands, I decided to look through her small library. After a half hour of reading, I was disturbed: she had sticky notes, flags and just scraps of paper stuck to each and every page, commenting on how that was done right, and how this can be improved. She even went as far as to begin writing some form of Constitution outlining what the kingdom would be like under her rule. What's more: one wall of her room was covered in maps, schematics and pictures, each one dated some time in the recent future.

If I went into detail, you'd be reading this for quite some time, so I'll skip to the highlights: a few days after the ball, the prince and her would be wed, and she would spend the next few months playing the happy wife, until six months in, the prince would be killed by hired thugs posing as soldiers of a neighboring kingdom. Cinderella would take the reigns from the prince, and immediately launch massive "retaliatory" attacks, capturing the kingdom within days. Soon, "Evidence" would be discovered that the kingdom she now occupied was aided in the assassination by several major powers, including the kingdoms of Belle, Snow White, and Queen Kida. Meanwhile, she would form alliances with the rapidly growing empires of Fa-Mulan and Ariel. Once the relations with her allies were solid, she would declare war against "those who would disturb the peace and prosperity of our kingdom". Her allies would follow suit, and soon thereafter conquer their enemies, and she would bring about the introduction of the Cindrellan Code, as she referenced it, her constitution based off the ideals from her books. I knew I had to stop her from going to the ball by all costs, lest her predictions come true. You know this next part of the story well, but what you don't know is what happened after. Her plan went along, as it should have, except for one hitch: Cindy wasn't expecting the audacity of the Mermaids, and they staged a bloody raid on an outpost f the United States of Pixar, a neutral nation. They retaliated in a similar manner to how Cindrellan troops did during their first assault, leaving nothing of the Mulan empire but dust and echoes, and they quickly strangled the fight out of the Mermaids. Soon after, USP troops encircled the capitol from the west and north, while the forces from Belle's kingdom encroached from the south, and Queen Kida's forces moved in from the east.

That's when she detonated the bomb. I was out of the city, but not out of the fallout zone. Hundreds of thousands weren't as lucky. I know for a fact that Cinderella was not among them. She's far too fond of herself to become a martyr, even for her own cause. I also know that as long as she's out there, she's just going to deface me some more. Hopefully, this'll set the record straight. It's probably going to be the last thing I do before I die.

I beg you all, whoever reads this: remember me not as the Evil Stepmother, but as a loyal patriot of her country, and a defender of the world as a whole.

The Stepmother


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I LIED! Chapter 2 is out! Surprised? Well, that's what you get for trusting a ego statistical, meso-maniaclal madman who watches My Little Pony and plays CoD: Modern Warfare at the same friggin time. Remember, enough reviews can stop the Disney World War from happening.**

So, here I sit, G18; in one hand, quill in the other. A stack of paper to my left, a pile of 33-round 9x19 parabellum clips on my right. My dress is dirty, ripped and bloodstained, not all of it my own. In the last 24 hours I have killed 7 USP Soldiers, 12 refugees, and detonated a nuclear device on my own capitol city. In the back of my head, I wish I'd never left Lady Tremaine's mansion, that I never went to that ball, and that I stopped myself long before my plan was set in motion. But I still realize that all of this was for the greater good, that the Cindrellan Republic was- _IS_ - the future of our world, that it is the right system of government, and that the wounds sustained at the hands of our enemies will only make us stronger. You're probably wondering, 'who is this fanatic? He sounds like Der Füher herself!' wrong with the "he" part, but right with Der Füher, just another name of mine. I've got a laundry list of them, now: Ella Tremaine, Cinderella, the Ashy-Whore, the girl with the glass slippers, Princess, Your Highness, and, most recently, Der Füher. What I've done under that name has allotted to my current situation.

I guess it started years back, when I first found a book, laden with tales of great and prosperous empires, led by powerful and just rulers, some who had risen from a total of nothing into their posts. I really had nothing at that time- the only reasons I got 3 hot meals and a cot was to keep me working for that bitch I had the displeasure of calling "Stepmother"- and these stories gave me hope, imagine: if a failed artist and wanted war criminal could turn his war torn country into a nearly unstoppable war machine, why couldn't a maid? I was intrigued by the successes of such men, and, although I did not realize it at the time, envious of them, and wanted to know more, but that book only had so much information. The next time I went on an errand run for Stepmother, I made inquisitions about getting more books on rulers such as Lenin, Ho Chi Mihn, and Castro. I found one man who was more than happy to supply me with the materials I was searching for, and any other materials I may need in the future. I still have a small card he gave me, a way of contacting him, he said.

His name was Jacob Hargreave, the owner of some business called Hargreave-Rasch Corporation. He gladly procured the books I needed when I asked for them. He knew full of my intentions, and he supported them fully. He even offered me membership into a group of men' including himself, with similar goals, just on a bigger scale, although I politely declined, as rule number one of my "constitution" was to rely solely on ones self. Even so, he continued to support me, even going as far as helping me piece together a plan to put myself in charge, just as long as once I gained control, I would be civilized with his organization. I accepted his terms, and he gladly aided along with my plan. You've no doubt seen recent events in the news, and you know what happened next. All of my plans went well, better than I had hoped, in fact, until those goddamned idiotic mermaids decided to attack the USP, a country I was trying to broker a peace deal with. The USP was the only other democracy in this world, besides my own. They sympathized with my struggle to spread the people's government around the world, but because of these dammed fishy smelling idiots, they decided that "war is not the way to spread peace" and that I "was a fascist wolf in a Democratic sheep's wool." So, here I sit, G18; in one hand, quill in the other. A stack of paper to my left, a pile of 33-round 9x19 parabellum clips on my right. My dress is dirty, ripped and bloodstained, not all of it my own. In the last 24 hours I have killed 7 USP Soldiers, 12 refugees, and detonated a nuclear device on my own capitol city. I can hear them coming now. USP soldiers, by the sounds of the gunfire coming from outside the door. They've come to kill me, no doubt. Well, I've a little message for them: _Werfen__Schuhe__kann__girly,__aber__mal sehen,__Sie sagen, dass__, wenn __ein Glas__zerbricht__Pantoffel__in Ihrem Gesicht! _


End file.
